M. Desmalions looked at him without understanding, and looked from him to the ceiling. Perenna said:
"Oh, there's no witchcraft2 about it; and, though no one has thrown that letter from above, though there is not the smallest hole in the ceiling, the explanation is quite simple!"
"Quite simple, is it?" said M. Desmalions.
"Yes, Monsieur le Préfet. It all looks like an extremely complicated conjuring3 trick, done almost for fun. Well, I say that it is quite simple—and, at the same time, terribly tragic4. Sergeant5 Mazeroux, would you mind drawing back the curtains and giving us as much light as possible?"
While Mazeroux was executing his orders and M. Desmalions glancing at the fourth letter, the contents of which were unimportant and merely confirmed the previous ones, Don Luis took a pair of steps which the workmen had left in the corner, set it up in the middle of the room and climbed to the top, where, seated astride, he was able to reach the electric chandelier.
It consisted of a broad, circular band in brass7, beneath which was a festoon of crystal pendants. Inside were three lamps placed at the corners of a brass triangle concealing8 the wires.
He uncovered the wires and cut them. Then he began to take the whole fitting to pieces. To hasten matters, he asked for a hammer and broke up the plaster all round the clamps that held the chandelier in position.
"Lend me a hand, please," he said to Mazeroux.
Mazeroux went up the steps; and between them they took hold of the chandelier and let it slide down the uprights. The detectives caught it and placed it on the table with some difficulty, for it was much heavier than it looked.
On inspection10, it proved to be surmounted11 by a cubical metal box, measuring about eight inches square, which box, being fastened inside the ceiling between the iron clamps, had obliged Don Luis to knock away the plaster that concealed12 it.
"What the devil's this?" exclaimed M. Desmalions.
"Open it for yourself, Monsieur le Préfet: there's a lid to it," said Perenna.
M. Desmalions raised the lid. The box was filled with springs and wheels, a whole complicated and detailed13 mechanism14 resembling a piece of clockwork.
"By your leave, Monsieur le Préfet," said Don Luis.
He took out one piece of machinery15 and discovered another beneath it, joined to the first by the gearing of two wheels; and the second was more like one of those automatic apparatuses16 which turn out printed slips.
Right at the bottom of the box, just where the box touched the ceiling, was a semicircular groove18, and at the edge of it was a letter ready for delivery.
"The last of the five letters," said Don Luis, "doubtless continuing the series of denunciations. You will notice, Monsieur le Préfet, that the chandelier originally had a fourth lamp in the centre. It was obviously removed when the chandelier was altered, so as to make room for the letters to pass."
He continued his detailed explanations:
"So the whole set of letters was placed here, at the bottom. A clever piece of machinery, controlled by clockwork, took them one by one at the appointed time, pushed them to the edge of the groove concealed between the lamps and the pendants, and projected them into space."
None of those standing1 around Don Luis spoke19, and all of them seemed perhaps a little disappointed. The whole thing was certainly very clever; but they had expected something better than a trick of springs and wheels, however surprising.
"Have patience, gentlemen," said Don Luis. "I promised you something ghastly; and you shall have it."
"Well, I agree," said the Prefect of Police, "that this is where the letters started from. But a good many points remain obscure; and, apart from this, there is one fact in particular which it seems impossible to understand. How were the criminals able to adapt the chandelier in this way? And, in a house guarded by the police, in a room watched night and day, how were they able to carry out such a piece of work without being seen or heard?"
"The answer is quite easy, Monsieur le Préfet: the work was done before the house was guarded by the police."
"Before the murder was committed, therefore?"
"Before the murder was committed."
"And what is to prove to me that that is so?"
"You have said so yourself, Monsieur le Préfet: because it could not have been otherwise."
"But do explain yourself, Monsieur!" cried M. Desmalions, with a gesture of irritation20. "If you have important things to tell us, why delay?"
"It is better, Monsieur le Préfet, that you should arrive at the truth in the same way as I did. When you know the secret of the letters, the truth is much nearer than you think; and you would have already named the criminal if the horror of his crime had not been so great as to divert all suspicion from him."
M. Desmalions looked at him attentively21. He felt the importance of
Perenna's every word and he was really anxious.
"Then, according to you," he said, "those letters accusing Madame Fauville and Gaston Sauverand were placed there with the sole object of ruining both of them?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Préfet."
"And, as they were placed there before the crime, the plot must have been schemed before the murder?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Préfet, before the murder. From the moment that we admit the innocence22 of Mme. Fauville and Gaston Sauverand, we are obliged to conclude that, as everything accuses them, this is due to a series of deliberate acts. Mme. Fauville was out on the night of the murder: a plot! She was unable to say how she spent her time while the murder was being committed: a plot! Her inexplicable23 drive in the direction of La Muette and her cousin Sauverand's walk in the neighbourhood of the house: plots! The marks left in the apple by those teeth, by Mme. Fauville's own teeth: a plot and the most infernal of all!
"I tell you, everything is plotted beforehand, everything is, so to speak, prepared, measured out, labelled, and numbered. Everything takes place at the appointed time. Nothing is left to chance. It is a work very nicely pieced together, worthy24 of the most skilful25 artisan, so solidly constructed that outside happenings have not been able to throw it out of gear; and that the scheme works exactly, precisely26, imperturbably27, like the clockwork in this box, which is a perfect symbol of the whole business and, at the same time, gives a most accurate explanation of it, because the letters denouncing the murderers were duly posted before the crime and delivered after the crime on the dates and at the hours foreseen."
M. Desmalions remained thinking for a time and then objected:
"Still, in the letters which he wrote, M. Fauville accuses his wife."
"He does."
"We must therefore admit either that he was right in accusing her or that the letters are forged?"
"They are not forged. All the experts have recognized M. Fauville's handwriting."
"Then?"
"Then—"
Don Luis did not finish his sentence; and M. Desmalions felt the breath of the truth fluttering still nearer round him.
The others, one and all as anxious as himself, were silent. He muttered:
"I do not understand—"
"Yes, Monsieur le Préfet, you do. You understand that, if the sending of those letters forms an integrate part of the plot hatched against Mme. Fauville and Gaston Sauverand, it is because their contents were prepared in such a way as to be the undoing28 of the victims."
"What! What! What are you saying?"
"I am saying what I said before. Once they are innocent, everything that tells against them is part of the plot."
Again there was a long silence. The Prefect of Police did not conceal9 his agitation29. Speaking very slowly, with his eyes fixed30 on Don Luis's eyes, he said:
"It is an even more improbable work than you can imagine, Monsieur le Préfet," said Perenna, with growing animation32, "and it is a hatred of which you, who do not know Sauverand's confession33, cannot yet estimate the violence. I understood it completely as I listened to the man; and, since then, all my thoughts have been overpowered by the dominant34 idea of that hatred. Who could hate like that? To whose loathing35 had Marie Fauville and Sauverand been sacrificed? Who was the inconceivable person whose perverted36 genius had surrounded his two victims with chains so powerfully forged?
"And another idea came to my mind, an earlier idea which had already struck me several times and to which I have already referred in Sergeant Mazeroux's presence: I mean the really mathematical character of the appearance of the letters. I said to myself that such grave documents could not be introduced into the case at fixed dates unless some primary reason demanded that those dates should absolutely be fixed. What reason? If a human agency had been at work each time, there would surely have been some irregularity dependent on this especially after the police had become cognizant of the matter and were present at the delivery of the letters.
"Well," Perenna continued, "in spite of every obstacle, the letters continued to come, as though they could not help it. And thus the reason of their coming gradually dawned upon me: they came mechanically, by some invisible process set going once and for all and working with the blind certainty of a physical law. This was a case not of a conscious intelligence and will, but just of material necessity…. It was the clash of these two ideas—the idea of the hatred pursuing the innocent and the idea of that machinery serving the schemes of the 'hater'—it was their clash that gave birth to the little spark of light. When brought into contact, the two ideas combined in my mind and suggested the recollection that Hippolyte Fauville was an engineer by profession!"
The others listened to him with a sort of uneasy oppression. What was gradually being revealed of the tragedy, instead of relieving the anxiety, increased it until it became absolutely painful.
M. Desmalions objected:
"Granting that the letters arrived on the dates named, you will nevertheless have noted38 that the hour varied39 on each occasion.
"That is to say, it varied according as we watched in the dark or not, and that is just the detail which supplied me with the key to the riddle40. If the letters—and this was an indispensable precaution, which we are now able to understand—were delivered only under cover of the darkness, it must be because a contrivance of some kind prevented them from appearing when the electric light was on, and because that contrivance was controlled by a switch inside the room. There is no other explanation possible.
"We have to do with an automatic distributor that delivers the incriminating letters which it contains by clockwork, releasing them only between this hour and that on such and such a night fixed in advance and only at times when the electric light is off. You have the apparatus17 before you. No doubt the experts will admire its ingenuity41 and confirm my assertions. But, given the fact that it was found in the ceiling of this room, given the fact that it contained letters written by M. Fauville, am I not entitled to say that it was constructed by M. Fauville, the electrical engineer?"
Once more the name of M. Fauville returned, like an obsession42; and each time the name stood more clearly defined. It was first M. Fauville; then M. Fauville, the engineer; then M. Fauville, the electrical engineer. And thus the picture of the "hater," as Don Luis said, appeared in its accurate outlines, giving those men, used though they were to the strangest criminal monstrosities, a thrill of terror. The truth was now no longer prowling around them. They were already fighting with it, as you fight with an adversary43 whom you do not see but who clutches you by the throat and brings you to the ground.
And the Prefect of Police, summing up all his impressions, said, in a strained voice:
"So M. Fauville wrote those letters in order to ruin his wife and the man who was in love with her?"
"Yes."
"In that case—"
"What?"
"Knowing, at the same time, that he was threatened with death, he wished, if ever the threat was realized, that his death should be laid to the charge of his wife and her friend?"
"Yes."
"And, in order to avenge44 himself on their love for each other and to gratify his hatred of them both, he wanted the whole set of facts to point to them as guilty of the murder of which he would be the victim?"
"Yes."
"So that—so that M. Fauville, in one part of his accursed work, was—what shall I say?—the accomplice46 of his own murder. He dreaded47 death. He struggled against it. But he arranged that his hatred should gain by it. That's it, isn't it? That's how it is?"
"Almost, Monsieur le Préfet. You are following the same stages by which I travelled and, like myself, you are hesitating before the last truth, before the truth which gives the tragedy its sinister49 character and deprives it of all human proportions."
The Prefect struck the table with his two fists and, in a sudden fit of revolt, cried:
"It's ridiculous! It's a perfectly50 preposterous51 theory! M. Fauville threatened with death and contriving52 his wife's ruin with that Machiavellian53 perseverance54? Absurd! The man who came to my office, the man whom you saw, was thinking of only one thing: how to escape dying! He was obsessed55 by one dread48 alone, the dread of death.
"It is not at such moments," the Prefect emphasized, "that a man fits up clockwork and lays traps, especially when those traps cannot take effect unless he dies by foul56 play. Can you see M. Fauville working at his automatic machine, putting in with his own hands letters which he has taken the pains to write to a friend three months before and intercept57, arranging events so that his wife shall appear guilty and saying, 'There! If I die murdered, I'm easy in my mind: the person to be arrested will be Marie!'
"No, you must confess, men don't take these gruesome precautions. Or, if they do—if they do, it means that they're sure of being murdered. It means that they agree to be murdered. It means that they are at one with the murderer, so to speak, and meet him halfway58. In short, it means—"
He interrupted himself, as if the sentences which he had spoken had surprised him. And the others seemed equally disconcerted. And all of them unconsciously drew from those sentences the conclusions which they implied, and which they themselves did not yet fully37 perceive.
Don Luis did not remove his eyes from the Prefect, and awaited the inevitable59 words.
M. Desmalions muttered:
"Come, come, you are not going to suggest that he had agreed—"
"I suggest nothing, Monsieur le Préfet," said Don Luis. "So far, you have followed the logical and natural trend of your thoughts; and that brings you to your present position."
"Yes, yes, I know, but I am showing you the absurdity60 of your theory. It can't be correct, and we can't believe in Marie Fauville's innocence unless we are prepared to suppose an unheard-of thing, that M. Fauville took part in his own murder. Why, it's laughable!"
And he gave a laugh; but it was a forced laugh and did not ring true.
"For, after all," he added, "you can't deny that that is where we stand."
"I don't deny it."
"Well?"
"Well, M. Fauville, as you say, took part in his own murder."
This was said in the quietest possible fashion, but with an air of such certainty that no one dreamed of protesting. After the work of deduction61 and supposition which Don Luis had compelled his hearers to undertake, they found themselves in a corner which it was impossible for them to leave without stumbling against unanswerable objections.
There was no longer any doubt about M. Fauville's share in his own death. But of what did that share consist? What part had he played in the tragedy of hatred and murder? Had he played that part, which ended in the sacrifice of his life, voluntarily or under compulsion? Who, when all was said and done, had served as his accomplice or his executioner?
All these questions came crowding upon the minds of M. Desmalions and the others. They thought of nothing but of how to solve them, and Don Luis could feel certain that his solution was accepted beforehand. From that moment he had but to tell his story of what had happened without fear of contradiction. He did so briefly62, after the manner of a succinct63 report limited to essentials:
"Three months before the crime, M. Fauville wrote a series of letters to one of his friends, M. Langernault, who, as Sergeant Mazeroux will have told you, Monsieur le Préfet, had been dead for several years, a fact of which M. Fauville cannot have been ignorant. These letters were posted, but were intercepted64 by some means which it is not necessary that we should know for the moment. M. Fauville erased65 the postmarks and the addresses and inserted the letters in a machine constructed for the purpose, of which he regulated the works so that the first letter should be delivered a fortnight after his death and the others at intervals66 of ten days.
"At this moment it is certain that his plan was concerted down to the smallest detail. Knowing that Sauverand was in love with his wife, watching Sauverand's movements, he must obviously have noticed that his detested67 rival used to pass under the windows of the house every Wednesday and that Marie Fauville would go to her window.
"This is a fact of the first importance, one which was exceedingly valuable to me; and it will impress you as being equal to a material proof. Every Wednesday evening, I repeat, Sauverand used to wander round the house. Now note this: first, the crime prepared by M. Fauville was committed on a Wednesday evening; secondly68, it was at her husband's express request that Mme. Fauville went out that evening to go to the opera and to Mme. d'Ersinger's."
Don Luis stopped for a few seconds and then continued:
"Consequently, on the morning of that Wednesday, everything was ready, the fatal clock was wound up, the incriminating machinery was working to perfection, and the proofs to come would confirm the immediate69 proofs which M. Fauville held in reserve. Better still, Monsieur le Préfet, you had received from him a letter in which he told you of the plot hatched against him, and he implored70 your assistance for the morning of the next day—that is to say, after his death!
"Everything, in short, led him to think that things would go according to the 'hater's' wishes, when something occurred that nearly upset his schemes: the appearance of Inspector71 Vérot, who had been sent by you, Monsieur le Préfet, to collect particulars about the Mornington heirs. What happened between the two men? Probably no one will ever know. Both are dead; and their secret will not come to life again. But we can at least say for certain that Inspector Vérot was here and took away with him the cake of chocolate on which the teeth of the tiger were seen for the first time, and also that Inspector Vérot succeeded, thanks to circumstances with which we are unacquainted, in discovering M. Fauville's projects."
"This we know," explained Don Luis, "because Inspector Vérot said so in his own agonizing72 words; because it was through him that we learned that the crime was to take place on the following night; and because he had set down his discoveries in a letter which was stolen from him.
"And Fauville knew it also, because, to get rid of the formidable enemy who was thwarting73 his designs, he poisoned him; because, when the poison was slow in acting74, he had the audacity75, under a disguise which made him look like Sauverand and which was one day to turn suspicion against Sauverand, he had the audacity and the presence of mind to follow Inspector Vérot to the Café du Pont-Neuf, to purloin76 the letter of explanation which Inspector Vérot wrote you, to substitute a blank sheet of paper for it, and then to ask a passer-by, who might become a witness against Sauverand, the way to the nearest underground station for Neuilly, where Sauverand lived! There's your man, Monsieur le Préfet."
Don Luis spoke with increasing force, with the ardour that springs from conviction; and his logical and closely argued speech seemed to conjure77 up the actual truth,
"There's your man, Monsieur le Préfet," he repeated. "There's your scoundrel. And the situation in which he found himself was such, the fear inspired by Inspector Vérot's possible revelations was such, that, before putting into execution the horrible deed which he had planned, he came to the police office to make sure that his victim was no longer alive and had not been able to denounce him.
"You remember the scene, Monsieur le Préfet, the fellow's agitation and fright: 'To-morrow evening,' he said. Yes, it was for the morrow that he asked for your help, because he knew that everything would be over that same evening and that next day the police would be confronted with a murder, with the two culprits against whom he himself had heaped up the charges, with Marie Fauville, whom he had, so to speak, accused in advance….
"That was why Sergeant Mazeroux's visit and mine to his house, at nine o'clock in the evening, embarrassed him so obviously. Who were those intruders? Would they not succeed in shattering his plan? Reflection reassured78 him, even as we, by our insistence79, compelled him to give way."
"After all, what he did care?" asked Perenna.
"His measures were so well taken that no amount of watching could destroy them or even make the watchers aware of them. What was to happen would happen in our presence and unknown to us. Death, summoned by him, would do its work…. And the comedy, the tragedy, rather, ran its course. Mme. Fauville, whom he was sending to the opera, came to say good-night. Then his servant brought him something to eat, including a dish of apples. Then followed a fit of rage, the agony of the man who is about to die and who fears death and a whole scene of deceit, in which he showed us his safe and the drab-cloth diary which was supposed to contain the story of the plot. … That ended matters.
"Mazeroux and I retired80 to the hall passage, closing the door after us; and M. Fauville remained alone and free to act. Nothing now could prevent the fulfilment of his wishes. At eleven o'clock in the evening, Mme. Fauville—to whom no doubt, in the course of the day, imitating Sauverand's handwriting, he had sent a letter—one of those letters which are always torn up at once, in which Sauverand entreated81 the poor woman to grant him an interview at the Ranelagh—Mme. Fauville would leave the opera and, before going to Mme. d'Ersinger's party, would spend an hour not far from the house.
"On the other hand, Sauverand would be performing his usual Wednesday pilgrimage less than half a mile away, in the opposite direction. During this time the crime would be committed.
"Both of them would come under the notice of the police, either by M. Fauville's allusions82 or by the incident at the Cafe du Pont-Neuf; both of them, moreover, would be incapable83 either of providing an alibi84 or of explaining their presence so near the house: were not both of them bound to be accused and convicted of the crime? … In the most unlikely event that some chance should protect them, there was an undeniable proof lying ready to hand in the shape of the apple containing the very marks of Marie Fauville's teeth! And then, a few weeks later, the last and decisive trick, the mysterious arrival at intervals of ten days, of the letters denouncing the pair. So everything was settled.
"The smallest details were foreseen with infernal clearness. You remember, Monsieur le Préfet, that turquoise85 which dropped out of my ring and was found in the safe? There were only four persons who could have seen it and picked it up. M. Fauville was one of them. Well, he was just the one, whom we all excepted; and yet it was he who, to cast suspicion upon me and to forestall86 an interference which he felt would be dangerous, seized the opportunity and placed the turquoise in the safe! …
"This time the work was completed. Fate was about to be fulfilled. Between the 'hater' and his victims there was but the distance of one act. The act was performed. M. Fauville died."
Don Luis ceased. His words were followed by a long silence; and he felt certain that the extraordinary story which he had just finished telling met with the absolute approval of his hearers. They did not discuss, they believed. And yet it was the most incredible truth that he was asking them to believe.
M. Desmalions asked one last question.
"You were in that passage with Sergeant Mazeroux. There were detectives outside the house. Admitting that M. Fauville knew that he was to be killed that night and at that very hour of the night, who can have killed him and who can have killed his son? There was no one within these four walls."
"There was M. Fauville."
A sudden clamour of protests arose. The veil was promptly87 torn; and the spectacle revealed by Don Luis provoked, in addition to horror, an unforeseen outburst of incredulity and a sort of revolt against the too kindly88 attention which had been accorded to those explanations. The Prefect of Police expressed the general feeling by exclaiming:
"Enough of words! Enough of theories! However logical they may seem, they lead to absurd conclusions."
"Absurd in appearance, Monsieur le Préfet; but how do we know that M. Fauville's unheard-of conduct is not explained by very natural reasons? Of course, no one dies with a light heart for the mere6 pleasure of revenge. But how do we know that M. Fauville, whose extreme emaciation89 and pallor you must have noted as I did, was not stricken by some mortal illness and that, knowing himself doomed90—"
"I repeat, enough of words!" cried the Prefect. "You go only by suppositions. What I want is proofs, a proof, only one. And we are still waiting for it."
"Here it is, Monsieur le Préfet."
"Eh? What's that you say?"
"Monsieur le Préfet, when I removed the chandelier from the plaster that supported it, I found, outside the upper surface of the metal box, a sealed envelope. As the chandelier was placed under the attic91 occupied by M. Fauville's son, it is evident that M. Fauville was able, by lifting the boards of the floor in his son's room, to reach the top of the machine which he had contrived92. This was how, during that last night, he placed this sealed envelope in position, after writing on it the date of the murder, '31 March, 11 P.M.,' and his signature, 'Hippolyte Fauville.'"
M. Desmalions opened the envelope with an eager hand. His first glance at the pages of writing which it contained made him give a start.
"Oh, the villain93, the villain!" he said. "How was it possible for such a monster to exist? What a loathsome94 brute95!"
"The end is reached. My hour is striking. Put to sleep by me, Edmond is dead without having been roused from his unconsciousness by the fire of the poison. My own death-agony is beginning. I am suffering all the tortures of hell. My hand can hardly write these last lines. I suffer, how I suffer! And yet my happiness is unspeakable.
"This happiness dates back to my visit to London, with Edmond, four months ago. Until then, I was dragging on the most hideous97 existence, hiding my hatred of the woman who detested me and who loved another, broken down in health, feeling myself already eaten up with an unrelenting disease, and seeing my son grow daily more weak and languid.
"In the afternoon I consulted a great physician and I no longer had the least doubt left: the malady98 that was eating into me was cancer. And I knew besides that, like myself, my son Edmond was on the road to the grave, incurably99 stricken with consumption.
"That same evening I conceived the magnificent idea of revenge. And such a revenge! The most dreadful of accusations100 made against a man and a woman in love with each other! Prison! The assizes! Penal101 servitude! The scaffold! And no assistance possible, not a struggle, not a hope! Accumulated proofs, proofs so formidable as to make the innocent themselves doubt their own innocence and remain hopelessly and helplessly dumb. What a revenge!… And what a punishment! To be innocent and to struggle vainly against the very facts that accuse you, the very certainty that proclaims you guilty.
"And I prepared everything with a glad heart. Each happy thought, each invention made me shout with laughter. Lord, how merry I was! You would think that cancer hurts: not a bit of it! How can you suffer physical pain when your soul is quivering with delight? Do you think I feel the hideous burning of the poison at this moment?
"I am happy. The death which I have inflicted102 on myself is the beginning of their torment103. Then why live and wait for a natural death which to them would mean the beginning of their happiness? And as Edmond had to die, why not save him a lingering illness and give him a death which would double the crime of Marie and Sauverand?
"The end is coming. I had to break off: the pain was too much for me. Now to pull myself together…. How silent everything is! Outside the house and in the house are emissaries of the police watching over my crime. At no great distance, Marie, in obedience104 to my letter, is hurrying to the trysting place, where her beloved will not come. And the beloved is roaming under the windows where his darling will not appear.
"Oh, the dear little puppets whose string I pull! Dance! Jump! Skip! Lord, what fun they are! A rope round your neck, sir; and, madam, a rope round yours. Was it not you, sir, who poisoned Inspector Vérot this morning and followed him to the Café du Pont-Neuf, with your grand ebony walking-stick? Why, of course it was! And at night the pretty lady poisons me and poisons her stepson. Prove it? Well, what about this apple, madam, this apple which you did not bite into and which all the same will be found to bear the marks of your teeth? What fun! Dance! Jump! Skip!
"And the letters! The trick of my letters to the late lamented105 Langernault! That was my crowning triumph. Oh, the joy of it, when I invented and constructed my little mechanical toy! Wasn't it nicely thought out? Isn't it wonderfully neat and accurate? On the appointed day, click, the first letter! And, ten days after, click, the second letter! Come, there's no hope for you, my poor friends, you're nicely done for. Dance! Jump! Skip!
"And what amuses me—for I am laughing now—is to think that nobody will know what to make of it. Marie and Sauverand guilty: of that there is not the least doubt. But, outside that, absolute mystery.
"Nobody will know nor ever will know anything. In a few weeks' time, when the two criminals are irrevocably doomed, when the letters are in the hands of the police, on the 25th, or, rather, at 3 o'clock on the morning of the 26th of May, an explosion will destroy every trace of my work. The bomb is in its place. A movement entirely106 independent of the chandelier will explode it at the hour aforesaid.
"I have just laid beside it the drab-cloth manuscript book in which I pretended that I wrote my diary, the phials containing the poison, the needles which I used, an ebony walking-stick, two letters from Inspector Vérot, in short, anything that might save the culprits. Then how can any one know? No, nobody will know nor ever will know anything.
"Unless—unless some miracle happens—unless the bomb leaves the walls standing and the ceiling intact. Unless, by some marvel107 of intelligence and intuition, a man of genius, unravelling108 the threads which I have tangled109, should penetrate110 to the very heart of the riddle and succeed, after a search lasting111 for months and months, in discovering this final letter.
"It is for this man that I write, well knowing that he cannot exist. But, after all, what do I care? Marie and Sauverand will be at the bottom of the abyss by then, dead no doubt, or in any case separated forever. And I risk nothing by leaving this evidence of my hatred in the hands of chance.
"There, that's finished. I have only to sign. My hand shakes more and more. The sweat is pouring from my forehead in great drops. I am suffering the tortures of the damned and I am divinely happy! Aha, my friends, you were waiting for my death!
"You, Marie, imprudently let me read in your eyes, which watched me stealthily, all your delight at seeing me so ill! And you were both of you so sure of the future that you had the courage to wait patiently for my death! Well, here it is, my death! Here it is and there are you, united above my grave, linked together with the handcuffs. Marie, be the wife of my friend Sauverand. Sauverand, I bestow112 my spouse113 upon you. Be joined together in holy matrimony. Bless you, my children!
"The examining magistrate114 will draw up the contract and the executioner will read the marriage service. Oh, the delight of it! I suffer agonies—but oh, the delight! What a fine thing is hatred, when it makes death a joy! I am happy in dying. Marie is in prison. Sauverand is weeping in the condemned115 man's cell. The door opens….
"Oh, horror! the men in black! They walk up to the bed: 'Gaston Sauverand, your appeal is rejected. Courage! Be a man!' Oh, the cold, dark morning—the scaffold! It's your turn, Marie, your turn! Would you survive your lover? Sauverand is dead: it's your turn. See, here's a rope for you. Or would you rather have poison? Die, will you, you hussy! Die with your veins116 on fire—as I am doing, I who hate you—hate you—hate you!"
M. Desmalions ceased, amid the silent astonishment117 of all those present. He had great difficulty in reading the concluding lines, the writing having become almost wholly shapeless and illegible118.
He said, in a low voice, as he stared at the paper: "'Hippolyte Fauville,' The signature is there. The scoundrel found a last remnant of strength to sign his name clearly. He feared that a doubt might be entertained of his villainy. And indeed how could any one have suspected it?"
And, looking at Don Luis, he added:
"It needed, to solve the mystery, a really exceptional power of insight and gifts to which we must all do homage119, to which I do homage. All the explanations which that madman gave have been anticipated in the most accurate and bewildering fashion."
"You are right, Monsieur le Préfet; he was a madman, and one of the most dangerous kind, the lucid121 madman who pursues an idea from which nothing will make him turn aside. He pursued it with superhuman tenacity122 and with all the resources of his fastidious mind, enslaved by the laws of mechanics.
"Another would have killed his victims frankly123 and brutally124. He set his wits to work to kill at a long date, like an experimenter who leaves to time the duty of proving the excellence125 of his invention. And he succeeded only too well, because the police fell into the trap and because Mme. Fauville is perhaps going to die."
M. Desmalions made a gesture of decision. The whole business, in fact, was past history, on which the police proceedings126 would throw the necessary light. One fact alone was of importance to the present: the saving of Marie Fauville's life.
"It's true," he said, "we have not a minute to lose. Mme. Fauville must be told without delay. At the same time, I will send for the examining magistrate; and the case against her is sure to be dismissed at once."
He swiftly gave orders for continuing the investigations127 and verifying
Don Luis's theories. Then, turning to Perenna:
"Come, Monsieur," he said. "It is right that Mme. Fauville should thank her rescuer. Mazeroux, you come, too."
* * * * *
The meeting was over, that meeting in the course of which Don Luis had given the most striking proofs of his genius. Waging war, so to speak, upon the powers beyond the grave, he had forced the dead man to reveal his secret. He disclosed, as though he had been present throughout, the hateful vengeance128 conceived in the darkness and carried out in the tomb.
M. Desmalions showed all his admiration129 by his silence and by certain movements of his head. And Perenna took a keen enjoyment130 in the strange fact that he, who was being hunted down by the police a few hours ago, should now be sitting in a motor car beside the head of that same force.
Nothing threw into greater relief the masterly manner in which he had conducted the business and the importance which the police attached to the results obtained. The value of his collaboration131 was such that they were willing to forget the incidents of the last two days. The grudge132 which Weber bore him was now of no avail against Don Luis Perenna.
M. Desmalions, meanwhile, began briefly to review the new solutions, and he concluded by still discussing certain points.
"Yes, that's it … there is not the least shadow of a doubt…. We agree…. It's that and nothing else. Still, one or two things remain obscure. First of all, the mark of the teeth. This, notwithstanding the husband's admission, is a fact which we cannot neglect."
"I believe that the explanation is a very simple one, Monsieur le Préfet. I will give it to you as soon as I am able to support it with the necessary proofs."
"Very well. But another question: how is it that Weber, yesterday morning, found that sheet of paper relating to the explosion in Mlle. Levasseur's room?"
"And how was it," added Don Luis, laughing, "that I found there the list of the five dates corresponding with the delivery of the letters?"
"So you are of my opinion?" said M. Desmalions. "The part played by Mlle.
Levasseur is at least suspicious."
"I believe that everything will be cleared up, Monsieur le Préfet, and that you need now only question Mme. Fauville and Gaston Sauverand in order to dispel133 these last obscurities and remove all suspicion from Mlle. Levasseur."
"And then," insisted M. Desmalions, "there is one more fact that strikes me as odd. Hippolyte Fauville does not once mention the Mornington inheritance in his confession. Why? Did he not know of it? Are we to suppose that there is no connection, beyond a mere casual coincidence, between the series of crimes and that bequest134?"
"There, I am entirely of your opinion, Monsieur le Préfet. Hippolyte
Fauville's silence as to that bequest perplexes me a little, I confess.
But all the same I look upon it as comparatively unimportant. The main
Don Luis's delight was pure and unbounded. From his point of view, the sinister tragedy was at an end with the discovery of the confession written by Hippolyte Fauville. Anything not explained in those lines would be explained by the details to be supplied by Mme. Fauville, Florence Levasseur, and Gaston Sauverand. He himself had lost all interest in the matter.
The car drew up at Saint-Lazare, the wretched, sordid135 old prison which is still waiting to be pulled down.
The Prefect jumped out. The door was opened at once.
"Is the prison governor there?" he asked. "Quick! send for him, it's urgent."
Then, unable to wait, he at once hastened toward the corridors leading to the infirmary and, as he reached the first-floor landing, came up against the governor himself.
"Mme. Fauville," he said, without waste of time. "I want to see her—"
But he stopped short when he saw the expression of consternation136 on the prison governor's face.
"Well, what is it?" he asked. "What's the matter?"
"Why, haven't you heard, Monsieur le Préfet?" stammered137 the governor. "I telephoned to the office, you know—"
"Speak! What is it?"
"Mme. Fauville died this morning. She managed somehow to take poison."
M. Desmalions seized the governor by the arm and ran to the infirmary, followed by Perenna and Mazeroux.
He saw Marie Fauville lying on a bed in one of the rooms. Her pale face and her shoulders were stained with brown patches, similar to those which had marked the bodies of Inspector Vérot, Hippolyte Fauville, and his son Edmond.
Greatly upset, the Prefect murmured:
"But the poison—where did it come from?"
"This phial and syringe were found under her pillow, Monsieur le Préfet."
"Under her pillow? But how did they get there? How did they reach her?
Who gave them to her?"
"We don't know yet, Monsieur le Préfet."
M. Desmalions looked at Don Luis. So Hippolyte Fauville's suicide had not put an end to the series of crimes! His action had done more than aim at Marie's death by the hand of the law: it had now driven her to take poison! Was it possible? Was it admissible that the dead man's revenge should still continue in the same automatic and anonymous138 manner?
Or rather—or rather, was there not some other mysterious will which was secretly and as audaciously carrying on Hippolyte Fauville's diabolical139 work?
* * * * *
Two days later came a fresh sensation: Gaston Sauverand was found dying in his cell. He had had the courage to strangle himself with his bedsheet. All efforts to restore him to life were vain.
On the table near him lay a half-dozen newspaper cuttings, which had been passed to him by an unknown hand. All of them told the news of Marie Fauville's death.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
witchcraft
|
|
| n.魔法，巫术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
conjuring
|
|
| n.魔术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
concealing
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
surmounted
|
|
| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
detailed
|
|
| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
mechanism
|
|
| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
machinery
|
|
| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
apparatuses
|
|
| n.器械； 装置； 设备； 仪器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
apparatus
|
|
| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
groove
|
|
| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
imperturbably
|
|
| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
undoing
|
|
| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
animation
|
|
| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
dominant
|
|
| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
loathing
|
|
| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
perverted
|
|
| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
riddle
|
|
| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
ingenuity
|
|
| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
obsession
|
|
| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
adversary
|
|
| adj.敌手，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
avenge
|
|
| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
accomplice
|
|
| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
preposterous
|
|
| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
contriving
|
|
| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
machiavellian
|
|
| adj.权谋的，狡诈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
perseverance
|
|
| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
obsessed
|
|
| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
intercept
|
|
| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
absurdity
|
|
| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
deduction
|
|
| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
succinct
|
|
| adj.简明的，简洁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
intercepted
|
|
| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
erased
|
|
| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
secondly
|
|
| adv.第二，其次 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
inspector
|
|
| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
agonizing
|
|
| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
thwarting
|
|
| 阻挠( thwart的现在分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
purloin
|
|
| v.偷窃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
conjure
|
|
| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
reassured
|
|
| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
insistence
|
|
| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
allusions
|
|
| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
alibi
|
|
| n.某人当时不在犯罪现场的申辩或证明；借口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
turquoise
|
|
| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
forestall
|
|
| vt.抢在…之前采取行动；预先阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
emaciation
|
|
| n.消瘦，憔悴，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
attic
|
|
| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
loathsome
|
|
| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
malady
|
|
| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
incurably
|
|
| ad.治不好地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
accusations
|
|
| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
penal
|
|
| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
lamented
|
|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
unravelling
|
|
| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的现在分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
penetrate
|
|
| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
bestow
|
|
| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
spouse
|
|
| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
magistrate
|
|
| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
illegible
|
|
| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
bestowed
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
lucid
|
|
| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
tenacity
|
|
| n.坚韧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
excellence
|
|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
investigations
|
|
| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
collaboration
|
|
| n.合作，协作；勾结 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
grudge
|
|
| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
dispel
|
|
| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
bequest
|
|
| n.遗赠；遗产，遗物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
consternation
|
|
| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
anonymous
|
|
| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
diabolical
|
|
| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |